


Unfinished Business with the Group Captain

by solarbird



Series: the web of time [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Overwatch, F/F, Gen, Talon Lena "Tracer" Oxton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 20:11:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11320830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solarbird/pseuds/solarbird
Summary: Lena "Venom" Oxton made Winston a promise, one Winston did not like. But Lena Oxton keeps her promises.





	Unfinished Business with the Group Captain

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the [_on overcoming the fear of spiders_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10670052/chapters/23618382) Overwatch AU continuity, and the linked novella should be read first, both for spoiler avoidance and for context.
> 
> (Really, this could've been a chapter in that novella, but it wouldn't've fit the rating or the flow as I wanted that story told. Call it Chapter 26.5 - that's about where it would belong.)

_[In the north of England - November 2074]_

"You _tried_ to break me," Lena Oxton said, striking the Group Captain across his face, a third time, and this time, he went down.

"Tried and did," said the G/C, propping himself up, spitting blood, and a tooth. "Just not how we intended. Look at you now, all dressed up in black and violent. Can't say we didn't do the job."

"Get up," she commanded.

"Why?"

She struck him again. "Because I fucking said so, mate."

He nodded, and rubbed his aching chin. "Give me a mo, let me catch my breath."

"Why?"

He snarled, "Because you want to fight me some more before you kill me, Trac..."

She struck him again; it felt almost like dislocating his jaw. "Naughty, naughty. Official Secrets Act, don'cha know."

He laughed a little, bitterly. She was close enough, he could've tried a for a sweep kick, knock her off her feet, but he'd already learned better. "Fair enough. So. What _is_ your name now?"

"I'll tell you before I kill you," she promised.

"Whatever it is," he asked, "was it your name _then_ , when you came back?"

The Talon assassin laughed derisively, a snorted single _ha_. "Nope. I was Lena Oxton, reporting for duty. Exactly like I said."

 _So we did get it wrong_ , he thought. _We sent her right back to Talon, to be remade. Damn._ "Lena Oxton wouldn't do this."

"People change, mate. Particularly when you break 'em. Lena Oxton _is_ doing this, and she's enjoying it."

"Changing history with my death, isn't that the line? I'm flattered."

"Oh, this isn't for history, gov. This is for me."

"Ah, revenge. Well, what's one more murder, more or less. Your masters must certainly be pleased with what they've made of you."

"Get up," she said, ignoring the taunt. "Let's finish this."

The G/C checked his sidearm. Three rounds left. Tracer, no, Oxton, no, _whoever_ she was now, she hadn't even brought her pistols. He looked up at the young assassin, so small, so thin, so _breakable_ , and yet, so utterly unscathed by the fight. He'd landed at least two roundhouses to her ribcage and stomach, he was sure of that, and where his other bullets went after he fired them, he had no idea.

"You cheat," he said.

"So do you," she replied.

"I know better than to say this isn't a fair fight."

"Roger that. Neither was London, mate, and I'm giving you more of a chance than you gave me. _This_ is one on one."

 _If I could just get a proper grip on her_ , he thought, standing, slowly, feeling better. She backed away, fast, out of grappling range. _She's not stronger_ , he thought. _Just... fast. Incredibly fast. But not bullets fast._

Oxton smiled wickedly as Henderson drew his pistol, and didn't run. The two circled each other, the G/C feinting with his sidearm, the Talon assassin darting left and right, as they circled on the rooftop.

 _Come on, you bastard,_ she thought. _Make your move already._ He was so slow. Even pumped up with stamina enhancers and metabolic boosters, he was still so very, humanly, slow.

Henderson felt sharp. In pain, but alive, sharp, tight. Sharper than he'd felt in some years, and if he hadn't been so busy trying to figure out how to survive - much less how the hell she'd got him up here - he'd probably have noticed that earlier.

Lena teased in a little, and he took the bait, diving in with a roundhouse kick and a bullet for where he hoped her head would be. She laughed as she threw herself into the air and flipped over him, instead of to the side, grabbing him from the back and slamming him back-first onto the ground.

The GC flipped himself back up, spinning round, and fired again, where she _had_ to be, but where she wasn't anymore, his second to last bullet disappearing into the night air.

"That's six. One to go," she said, from behind him - from _right_ behind him. He spun and this time grabbed, and, for just a moment, _had_ her, clocking her on the head with the heel of his pistol, and she shouted in pain, before throwing him to the ground again, using his own weight against him, impossibly fast.

He flipped back up again - barely. That one had hurt, a _lot_. Oxton stood a mere two metres away, bloodied, with a feral smile. "Finally landed one," she said. "Not many people can."

"I haven't been that fast in years," the Group Captain said. "What'd you do to me?"

"Nothin' much, luv. Little metabolic boost, little stamina boost. Make it a fair fight. Well," she admitted, "fair _er_."

"Thought so. You must mainline the stuff."

"Nah." She wiped the blood from her forehead. "Don't need it."

 _To hell with this_ , he thought, and fired the last round straight at his enemy's face. Somehow, she was smirking before the impulse even reached his finger, and she knocked his hand aside as he pulled the trigger, the last bullet careening off into the darkness.

He spun around and lunged again, and somehow, she was atop him, legs tight around his arms and chest, arms around his head.

"My name," she said, as he struggled to get free, "is _Venom_. And I'm the _last_ person you'll ever break."

The group captain had just enough time to realise he was going to die at that very moment, before she snapped his neck. He dropped like a sack of rice, as Venom leapt off his shoulders, and as he perished she laughed, loud and long and fiercely and full of joy.

Panting, she smiled at Amélie as the Widowmaker's grappling hook brought the senior assassin onto the roof. "That felt _good_ ," Venom said, looking at the prone body of her tormenter, Group Captain Aubrey Henderson, RAF, MI5, now deceased.

Amélie fussed over her lover's head. "He got you quite solidly, with that pistol whip. We need to get this cleaned up, you are still bleeding."

Lena nodded, a little flushed, waves of emotion flowing over her. "Just a minute." She took the letter she'd prepared in advance, rolled his body over, and put it halfway under his uniform jacket. It contained a list of names of people that MI5 had broken under his authority. That list did not include the name Lena Oxton. She had merely signed it, as "Tracer."

Venom took a picture of the corpse, with the letter, and sniffed, crying a little, shaking with relief. "I am _so glad_ he's dead."

"Come on, cherie," said the Widowmaker, taking her lover's arm. "We need to get you patched up."

"Yeah," Venom agreed. "I don't want to have a headache."

The spider smiled, curiously, at the younger assassin.

"...because it's all I can do to keep my hands off you right now."

Amélie laughed, delighted. "Then the sooner we are out of here, the better, no?"

"Ow," Lena Oxton said, the pain peeking out past the adrenaline. "Yeh. Let's go."


End file.
